


Remember To Turn On The Light

by JustPlainAmy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Canonical Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, M/M, Magic!Eggsy, OT3, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past/present Hartlin, Rentboy Eggsy, Veela!Eggsy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustPlainAmy/pseuds/JustPlainAmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the years after the war there is only time for rebuilding, so sometimes with everything and everyone all turned on their head and the ministry in shambles.No one can blame the wizarding world when it simply becomes too busy for normal, normal is something they can't afford. </p><p>Busy with things like helping the newly made orphans and hunting once again those who cupported the Dark Lord. With this preoccupation an unlucky few slip through the cracks. Children who were left behind because their parents had hid them  little too well during the war, muggleborns who were left behind simply because no one had the time to look. </p><p>Eggsy is 6 when a stranger waltzes into his home and give him his father's medal, somewhere in scotland Voldemort falls at the hands of a teenager because he wasn't clever enough. Eggsy's world ends as others are finally allowed to start living again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lee Unwin;his story

**Author's Note:**

> previously Reddite mihi alis = Give me my wings  
> (Follow canon for the most part, but canon with this exact Au)

 

        Because of the war a lot of things happen, things break and people fall through the cracks. All the corruption within the ministry that insured there were some unlucky few muggleborns who never receive their letters, even worse are the ones whose parents who had hid them far and wide specifically from the ministry. This was the case of little Eggsy Unwin, who was handed a medal for a dead father the same year that Harry Potter had been hiding in the Forest of Dean.

 

Eggsy Unwin who would never learn why he’d been able to move things in his cribs or why sometimes when his mum took him to the park people stared like they were actually entranced with him. Part Veela with a muggle mother, one who was determined to protect her only son from the world she believed to have killed her husband.

      Eggsy is born the night the potter boy chases Quirrel underneath Hogwarts.The centaurs are freer with their information when they speak to fellow creatures, even the Veela who live wild in the forbidden forest relay it urgently to their cousins who have settled themselves away from the forests and nearer to the muggles. Domesticated but no less dangerous.

Lee Unwin stand on his stoop as his neighbors stare at a a gorgeous women with dark eye brows and blond had that flirts with the waist of her backless dress, she's barefoot but no one seems to notice or care. He listened, his face twisting in agony as his half sister told him what was to come as he recalled it was only an hour ago he held his newborn son. There was no other option, they needed to get out, Voldemort would be coming after the unwin clan both human and Veela alike. There would be no way to fight this time seeing as the forrests were already divided in support and protest against his rise. So he takes the family he has made all on his own and runs.

 

The next week they've packed up their things and he's got wife and child in an unplotable flat. Then he sets up himself, enlisting and making sure there would be something to take care of the two of them. It's the last time he visits gringotts. Both to make Eggsy his own vault and to make a few investments that would hopefully pay off in the mean time. They’re as far under the radar as they can get. Away from the wizarding war and he acts like a muggle as much as possible, though he does make excuses for his singing. Just for Michelle. She always begs a song out of him and who is he to deny her. She's the only person that's ever seen him in such a state an not fall under thrall or fear, he fell in love with her the moment she smiled and asked to touch his wings.

 

So he enlists, he works hard becomes a good soldier, he's singing more than he has in years, his wand- 9 inches yew with a hair from his grandmother on his father's side is stashed in a makeshift holder in his uniform. They hit the deserts with the comfort knowing their family will just be receiving their last, most recent letters before the mission.

 

Then there's Harry who offers him a wink and drink, for Christ sake; while bleeding out from four bullet holes In the middle of the god damn desert. He's been separated from his squadron, there had been heavy gun fire that had taken down the rest of the scouting party in such quick succession he hadn’t been able to help his mates. He had gone ahead, on the ridge to find a good sniper position to cover them, too far away and too removed when he heard the gunshots. He was distracted for a moment as his foot caught a curiously polished dress shoe, a man dressed in a bedraggled suit was gasping for life in what was coincidentally a damn good place to start picking off the insurgents that were doing their best to fucking murder his friends.

He took them out one by one; he could feel eyes on him as he viciously unloaded 17 precise rounds. They weren’t all head shots but he knew they were all kill shots. The vicious part of him that was more Veela that man urged him to take flight and rip their dying bodies apart, avenge the quiet boy who had offered him a mint on his first day and had wicked skill with hand guns. Avenge the six other men that were supposed to walk into the area uncontested for another week before any one crossed their horizons. He could save a life though, there was always that?

He thought he’d be greeted with someone barely alive, but this lunatic who had immediately introduced himself as ‘Harry Hart, the pleasure is mine” and all that nonsense before the daft fool made a pass at him. He just needed Harry to be a little less alert if he was to pull out his wand, later he can convince him he’s some sort of field nurse but right now he’s being regarded a little too shrewdly.

So He drags the man who’s dressed in a fucking suit into the cave under the ledge and prays to whoever is listening that there won’t be more for another hour, he needed as much if he had to do a stitch job. The bullets wounds were bleeding like nothing else but 3 of them were through and through. The fourth was close enough that he was able to dig with the tweezers.

Harry’s eyes do roll back after the tweezers and he’s able to accio’d the bigger field kit from their dead medic. Red haired man named David who had taken turns with him showing off baby pictures of their young ones. His poor wife, he brought his bloody fist to scrubb at his face before he began charming needle and antiseptic and pouring as much murtlap as he dares into his injuries. Too much healing and all that hiding will have been for naught if the ministry gets after his ass for revealing himself to another muggle.

They sat there for 2 more days waiting for back up as he continued to force Harry to drink and eat some of the crackers from his rations. In those two days he kills probably 20 or more men. He doesn’t have many more bullets left and the bodies of his friends are buried in half graves as far as he could stand leaving Harry. He blamed his Veela instincts, he knew he was trapped with no way home but his fucked up animal brain had designated the outcropping as a nest. A nest with something important to protect within.

 

It’s been long enough that the rest of his unit would have realized they were dead or in trouble and sent a recovery team. His leg bounces and his palms heat as they curl around his gun. The dirt and the sand of the desert are unforgiving to most but his kind feed on heat and fire so it serves to make him antsier, he’d given Harry a good bit of water earlier. He would only last for another day or so in the heat. As it was he was surprised fever hadn’t taken the man.

He nearly threw down his rifle, god he wanted to fly but he was tethered here. Why had he done that?? He could have been back to base yesterday by now. A little voice whispered about the death of the strange man who had nearly dies in front of him and how he would never had been able to carry them back without being seen.

He was pacing when he heard it, unmistakable and familiar. It was the low roar of one of their Humvees, he was glad his new friend wasn’t awake or else he would he seen the flash as his glamour dropped for a moment. Huge wings and a bird like face were visible for a moment as he scrambled to get a better view of what was coming.

 

He was lying on his stomach when he saw that it was the wrong color. Painted a strange shimmery gold he could barely follow with his eyes instead of the normal sand. Fuck, fuck, he was quick to scramble down to pull harry further back into the cave. The way his face turned sour as he was moved reminded him of his Eggsy. There were people coming for them, or maybe Eggs- Harry, he could feel his talons grow and his fire spread from his fingers. The exhaustion was making his human side slip up and his creature was taking over.

 

He pulled his rifle into place just as the Humvee pulled up just out of range; he readied a shot as a single man stepped out of the driver’s side. He was dressed a bit like his E- like Harry had been when he first found him. Maybe- no, not worth the risk, too suspicious, too unfamiliar he couldn’t risk it.

Ten more feet, five more and he had him he fired off two shots in quick succession… Neither found their mark. He can’t think of the last time he missed.

He picks up the automatic and fires off a dozen shots. All of them should hit their mark. The man is much taller than him, with dark hair and even more ridiculous glasses than the ones Harry insisted on wearing. Sharp eyes can see a somber face but that didn’t matter much when he was closing in. He was less than 200 meters from where he stood now. It was then that he felt it, he sighed in relief. The magic the man seemed to be pushing off of him. Wandless? And wordless? Very impressive, even if the man was trying to modifying his memory with several muggle safe charms at the moment.

He wanted Harry? He can’t have him, for now this stranger was all he had left to protect and with only this rouge wizard to face down there was nothing to hide. And if the desert had made him itch to do this from the moment he had laid foot on it no one can blame him in the state he’s in.

 

So he tosses his head back with a laughs, laughs in a way he never laughed with his friends in hufflepuff tower. But the laugh that hurt your ears to listen to, 6 different chords in one that wasn’t a sign of happiness in his world but a threat display as he bore his teeth. He focused on his creature side and in a moment he knew his eyes were more like orbs of yellow than the human green they had been. His fatigues ripped as his scaled wings erupt from his back and teeth bared turn into a snapping beak.

 

He’s ready to burn this asshole to the ground, when he catches a look of intense hope. He nearly drops his fighting stance. It wasn’t the fear, or the blank eyed awe of thrall.

His hesitance gave the wizard enough time to cast himself a shield before shouting it a rough Scottish brogue.

“Is he alive?” the question is desperate and for all that is shouted it sounds quiet against the echoes of the desert. Michelle always told him he had a soft heart, he wouldn’t mess with this one too much.

“What’s the code” He yelled, spitting words out through his beak had never been easy and he was trying to stall for time. What he was startled with though was when the other man answered instantly.

“Oxfords not Brogues, Because He’s a fucking asshole” The other man looked very young in that moment; it’s the only reason he doesn’t laugh. He had noticed Harry’s posh accent, the Scotts own accent seem real enough. And it definitely reminded him of the night Michelle told him she was pregnant; he was the most ecstatic man on the planet. Until it dawned on him he had no idea how Veela-human pregnancies worked.

Harry may not have actually given him a code, but he liked this fellow. It may all be an act but still, Harry wasn’t going to make it another day despite everything he’d done for him. He shook his head a little to violently the tiredness was seeping into his bones. Fucking magic could barely change at this point despite the deserts power.

He does his best not to shiver when he turns his back on the other wizard, his wings fold but do not fade, they will serve as all the barrier he’ll get if a gun or wand is drawn on him. There is no shot or spell. Just the quiet crush of dirt under boots as he followed.

He squashes down his scrambled starved instincts as he leads him to the cave where Harry is propped against the wall looking pale but alive. Sleeping rather than dead despite his truly mangled suit and the numerous makeshift bandages wrapped around his middle. He drops with his own exhaustion against the cave wall as he watches him speed to Harry side.

The bag he’d been carrying is opened easily, potions fed to the barely conscious muggle. It’s safe enough to let his head lull back, though he does learn forward and ignores the way the man tenses as he snags a large bottle of water taking a long drag of water. He probably shouldn’t have gone so long without drinking, 3 days is long even for a Veela even if he were a full blooded one. He was being watched again, it made him smirk; these posh types were all the same. Maybe it would be worth it to dance his way out of here, dump the two of them at the dearest tent and drive all the way home. God did he want to see his Michelle and his boy. Wanted to make sure they knew he was alive and not MIA.

“You never asked, but you can call me Merlin” He snorted into his water bottle. Beautiful, he was in the middle of no were with a powerful wizard who was in love with a muggle that reminded him of his son who was not, he reminded himself there in the middle of the desert with them. He’d guarded a full grown man for nearly 4 days and had killed more men than he could count on both their finger and toes combined to keep him safe. Maybe he shouldn’t keep his Veela so locked away all the time if this was how it reacted when he let it out, bit too paternal to be safe.

Still it was remarkable how similar Harry’s little pained smile had looked like his little 5 year old when the tyke had skinned his knee. His head lolled again as Merlin has kept working on Harry single mindedly but with a smirk on his face.  Asshole, he almost couldn’t help but like him. Almost.

 

“Lee” there’s a moment of quiet, before Merlin moves on. He can appreciate that, he’s not gonna give him his entire name cause there’s a reason their family is hiding from the wizarding world. Voldemort was coming back, he’d come for the Unwin family again. Like clockwork it was.

They carried Harry back to the Vee and besides some quiet small talk a shutdown question of “Veela huh?” Their journey to wherever the fuck they were going was mostly silent. He was exhausted so he mostly just took care of Harry. Hard not after doing it for so long, fingers moving through ridiculously poufy hair. God, he hopes Eggsy has the sense not to get a perm because though it may suit Harry is was still pretty stupid.

He notices the evil “I am powerful do not touch the hair” jealous glares Merlin keeps sending him in the mirror every so often. He isn’t a cruel man so he puts him out of his misery by babbling on bout Michelle and Eggsy. He never gives names, he’s too careful for that. And maybe if there’s a quiet confession about how somehow stranded as they were and Harry wounded and weak may have reminded him a little too much of his 6 year old. This makes Merlin laugh so hard he wakes Harry up; he smiles dopily through whatever potions Merlin gave him before settling back down.

Then its 7 months later and he gets a call from Harry, god knows how the ungrateful fucker got his number. Tells him they have a position open, he follows Harry to a tailor shop and makes a point of laughing in his face when he says he’s just a tailor. And he’s just a fucking parakeet.

There’s another 6 months of training and Eggsy is growing so fast, he spends all his time with Merlin or Harry or even James showing off all the pictures of his boy and Michelle. He feels safe. Kingsman is safe even though it really isn’t.

He keeps his wand on him at all times, he sings more often than he has in years. But it's not enough when he's in a room with men he respects too much to let die, They tell you your life flashes before your eyes when your about to die but all he can think about is how he's managed to fail Eggsy. He'd have to wait another few years to even really learn what being a Veela means. There isn't enough time to draw his wand so he hopes his healing will kick in and be enough. He dives on top of the grenade. It doesn't, it isn't.

Harry Hart swears over the body of the man who had no saved him twice over, had become best freinds with Merlin over the last few months. Shit, Shit bloody fucking shit. He'd missed it and now he was dead. Now he was dead and there was a family to confront. He hoped Lee's wife would punch him, he'd been spoiled by Lee insiting on patching everyone up. At least for things they would have forgone both Merlin and medical for. He wanted something to remember him by. 

Harry Hart is 29 when Mrs. Unwin doesn't punch him and he hands Lee's medal to his little boy before getting maybe ten feet off the stoop before he turns to bust open his knuckles on the nearby brick work. He startles a neighbors cats from the trash and he stands there breathing hard with bleeding knuckles.

"Fucking missed it" long fingers move his glasses to his forehead as he palms his prickling eyes.

 

Eggsy is 6 when a stranger walks in and hands him his father's medal and his world ends.

       

 


	2. Eggsy Gets His wings

Eggsy is 11 years old when he tries to jump from a roof to another on a dare, slips in the last moment. Sneakers sliding on concrete as everything seemed to slow, he felt his fingers scrape as the wall slipped from his grip. He was tumbling, tumbling- he felt his head smash violently against the concrete as he hit the ground. There was a moment of quiet dizziness. He knows his brains should be smashed against but there is only warmth as his mates rush over. He sits up grinning; no one notices the now dried blood on the color of his jacket.

 

 

One night Dean gets drunk and bends his mums arm back too far, refuses to let them go to the hospital. She wakes up with Eggsy cradling her injured arm-it’s not even swollen anymore. She cries harder than she did when Dean broke her arm in the first place. The next time Eggsy comes home to see he's given her a black eye He can't do anything because he's not strong enough to be the one making his mum cry like that. Eggsy is 13.

 

He’s fifteen when Dean tells him, it’s either you or your mom, and a little spittle hits him in the face. He can see an older man- maybe 40 standing behind Dean with a nervous smile and a wad of cash. He clenches his teeth, lets himself be led into the back alley of the pub. His stomach is rolling and his eyes are clenched tight and he wishes he could make it all stop, make it stop.

 

Eggsy he fights back tears as he’s crowded against the brink wall, he wants to scream but tries to make himself go limp. Just let it go-let it all go, it’s a quiet thought he’s not relaxed but the skive isn’t grabbing at him anymore. He opens his eyes, he probably should be on his knees at this point but the guy is looking at him like someone has hypnotized him. Eggsy gets angry

 

“Would you just give me the cash already-payment before service and all that” He feels powerful and brave, he feels small and vulnerable. The prick seems to follow his instructions to the letter. There’s 70 quid in his hand and he’s still standing there.

 

“Tell me your name” He doesn’t really know why he asks it, morbid curiosity, though mostly to test if the guy had hit his head or something.

 

“Daniel” He felt brave again, Daniel still looked like he couldn’t be arsed to do anything but smile and do what Eggsy told him to do.

 

“Daniel, you’re going to walk up to dean give him the rest of your cash and act like you just had the time of your life, yeah?” He expects a slap, he almost flinches doesn’t look up until he hears a dopey “Okay” and He’s left in the Alley all shook up with no fucking idea as to what happened.

Daniel gives Dean 200, after that Dean gives him no choice but to repeat. Sometimes it doesn’t really work and he does get slapped. Bent over and taken none too nicely. But it’s a good 7/10 that he gets extra money to put away into getting his mum out.

 

He’s 17 when he steals his first car, the rival gang recognized him. It isn’t a lucky night so he can barely walk let alone run, but they recognize him and they had all come shouting at him, a few with knives. He grabs at the nearest car, ignores the sound of the locks coming undone and the engine roars to life as they close in. He drives like a mad man until he’s in a place where he can drop the car safety.

 

He’s 18, almost 19 when he joins the marines; Dean had gotten himself caught, drugs of all things. When the man specialized in almost everything else the idiot gets caught for coke. He’ll be in for at least 2 years so Eggsy accepts the offers from their local recruitment. He endures the looks, the taunts. But most of them die down when some idiot decides it’ll be funny to set Eggsy’s pillow on fire. Only Eggsy doesn’t wake up, he doesn’t startle anything he should have done waking up like that happen. Just stares them all down as they panic, watching Eggsy hair catch fire.

What no one notices (Except Eggsy) that his hands get warm? Almost like there’s fire in them too. No one tells their S.O.’s and they all become the best of friends over night. Sometimes when he gets stressed he can feel his back get tight. Like there’s something trying to break free.

 

He gets a sobbing call from his mum 3 months into training. The pain in his back grows. He ignores it; he has a mother to take care of. And he can’t bear to hear how he’s going to die and leave her alone like her dad had done.

 

He’s 22 when he finds out Dean’s getting released on good behavior. He uses what cash he has to move his mom to another neighborhood and hopes they don’t find them. His mum smiles at him when he gets home, he’s working three jobs to keep their new apartment. He’ll make it work.

He was 23 and Dean had found them a month ago and it was like he had never left. By never left Eggsy’s chest and stomach were peppered with bruises and there was a little stab wound that refused to heal on its own that he hid with long sleeve shirts. He was so angry, he had been so careful. But it ended up being his fault, one of his jobs were to deliver for a Tai place down the street from them. He’d delivered to an estate that had seemed familiar but not familiar enough until Rottweiler had opened the door with a grin. He wanted to kill them all, to rip them apart with his hands.

 

He’s just turned 24 when his mum hands him a pink little bundle as they sit in the hospital together. Giddy as hell as his mum laughs with the nurses about how she both her babies were born on the same day. Something about impeccable timing is said and his mum’s face twitches. They both know that even though Dean wasn’t there, someone was waiting to take them home. Wouldn’t risk their escape, not from a place like this with so many people who are already looking at them like they can’t wait to free the bed. There was no held coming for them, even as he felt a half forgotten necklace thump against his chest as he pulled his new baby sis close.

He’d fallen in love the second he’d seen her, the doctors had let him cut the cord seeing as how it was only him there for the two of them. He promised her as his mum cooed how precious she was that he was gonna keep her safe. Mum had passed out as he began to sing to her, he only had about ten minutes before he had to put her back in the basinet. But still he sang a silly little ditty he remembered his dad used to sing, his heart felt light and he was happier than he’d been in years.

 

He swore he thought the room got a little lighter, a little more golden while he sang. He felt warm and at peace with little Daisy’s fingers grasping tightly at his own.

They leave the hospital and he sees Rotty sitting on the curb and he’s so angry for a second he’s blind with it. For the next 6 months he has so many moments like that, where he’s so angry his vision whites out it’s a bit terrifying. He holds back though, lets Dean beat him waits for the inevitable moment where he tells Eggsy it’s time to head out to smith street for the night. It doesn’t happen and if anything he gets angrier.

 

He doesn’t start a fight when he snaps, naw he settles for pulling the trick he learned when he was 17 and tricked his bros into thinking the keys he had held up were Rotty’s. God he was angry. He was angry then he was scared- cause he’d be going to prison, no one would be there to protect his Mum or his Daisy from the bastard. He hadn’t thought about the medal for years. Just it was the only thing of his dad’s he was allowed to keep. A favor? It was worth trying, he was desperate god knows what would happen to Daisy. She was just a baby.

 

He’s 25 when he sees long legs in perfectly tailored trousers, when he smiles bright and hopeful when this handsome guy tells him he knew his dad. He flirts shamelessly anyway and hope just maybe a little bit too much to be decent this pint will end with hind on his knees somewhere. Then Dean’s goons come in, they’re there to kill him he knows. Harry may have been an ass but nobody deserves to get hurt for him.

 

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief when Harry walks out, his palms are smarting and he’s pretty sure the windows start to rattle. Maybe his weird luck will get him out of it this time. Then someone says about his being one of Dean’s rent boys and he hears the finality of the locks on the door. He’s never seen anything hotter than when Harry literally destroys them.

 

He’s 25 when he dashes home to check on his mum and Daisy only to be met with a kitchen knife and shouting. He doesn’t give Dean shit because Dean doesn’t get anything from him and he’s no grass, no matter what.

 

He’s 25 when Harry Hart intervenes as the voice of god a moment too late. His blood is spilling. A lot more than it has in a while, his mother is screaming and so is Daisy but he doesn’t feel the pain. He can’t breathe though and his neck is tight. He gasps, over and over again warm blood coming out of his fingers. He hears Daisy wail and Dean is listening to Harry. Harry is still talking?

 

Dean turns to scream at his mum for her to shut up, for her to shut the baby up. Pushes her back hard when she reaches for him, he almost gets a grip on her hand before its wrenched back and Dean is growling something else. Mum is screaming like nothing he's ever heard. Dean just seems to be half terrified of the voice projecting into the room and half satisfied over his handy work.

It’s the last straw. There’s that glow, its lighting up the room; but this time it’s not warm. It's just bright and terrifying. Everything has stopped moving. Completely-there is no sound-there is only time. He takes a deep breath, he can do that now. He’s probably dead but he’d not worried apparently Harry heard everything that happened. He was the good sort; he’d take care of them for him. He had been going on and on about Eggsy's Dad, he won't leave his widow and her baby to the mercy of the man who murdered their son. Though if Dean had finally managed to kill him he would haunt the asshole till his last fucking breath.

 

The kitchen knife fell to the floor, which was a little weird, definitely pointed to the non-dead theory if he could still touch things. He was standing everything was still frozen. The wound in his neck was gone and it the phantom pressure in his shoulders was back tenfold. He felt his shirt rip; apparently dead people had huge wings? Maybe he was gonna be an angel? That'd be a trip, him and angel? He could deal with that, just like that his wings were out and it’s like time snapped back into place-though shouting turned to silence. His mum had stopped screaming in a second, Dean had turned white. Harry’s voice was rolling over him something about Dean taking his leave now and never coming back. He knew Harry was the good sort.

 

No he didn’t want that, He felt the fire in his belly expand and a tingle grow in his palms, he felt giddy like the first and last time he’d tried Molly. The absolute rush that followed close behind his range. Maybe he would sing a little song for Dean Hmm? He had a feeling the man wouldn’t be so immune when he felt this fearless.

Great blue and yellow balls of fire grew in his palms, enjoying the heat that licked up his arms. He swears Dean pissed himself before sprinting out before Eggsy could loose his fire. His mother had stopped wailing, she only look shaken up. Her gaze fixed on the way his shirt was stained a gruesome red.

 

Daisy was standing in her playpen looking miserable reaching for him. He was still covered in blood. He looked around their apartment, the place was completely trashed. His mum just looked at him with a resigned sigh, but hugged him all the same pulling him close before going to cuddle Daisy to her chest. Harry’s voice still rolled like thunder.

 

“Eggsy if you would collect your mother and sister I’ve sent a cab and a few people to gather your belongings” He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t think he can. His wings are gone again, he may have imagined the whole thing but what does that matter they were leaving, maybe for good. He was still covered in too much of his own blood.

 

Harry’s eyes are wide when he takes in Eggsy, whose carrying two bags full of Daisy and his mum’s stuff. It was just a microphone then. He wouldn’t have known what had happened after. Won’t know that Eggsy’s a freak.

 

All he gets for his pinched face is a warm hand; his mum definitely recognizes Harry but is too grateful to put up much of a fuss. Eggsy gets a no-nonsense look as he’s guided to some sort of study by gentle hand and an increasingly alarmed stare. There are bandage and a needle, probably set out special for him. He lets Harry sit him down; he’s still tired enough to drop. He’s not used to healing himself like that. Everybody else it’s easy, he just has to wish it and maybe have a snack after but with himself it leaves him tired and light headed. So it takes him a guilty minute of enjoying Harry’s hands on him as his head lolls back before he reaches out to stop the older man.

 

He shakes his head and their silent conversation is broken when Harry looks up at him appraisingly. God what a trip- to have Harry bloody Hart, a guy who could take out an entire room of gangsters to his knees with a distressed expression making the laugh lines around his eyes making him look nothing but mournful. Mournful but still he look a little impressed? What does he think Eggsy did exactly?

 

“Eggsy… is this not your blood?” The question is genuinely curious, there is a weird lack of judgement considering the amount of blood on his shirt should have been enough to kill someone. Dean had sliced the artery right through, there was so much it was ridiculous to think it was Eggsy’s. Instead of explaining he just did what he did when he told Jamal when they were 14, except this time it would work because he wasn’t a scared little kid any more he’d heal after he’d make the cut. And he wouldn’t have to wait to fall asleep for it neither. Though sleep was calling him.

 

He leaned against Harry’s shoulder for support before gracelessly swiping the letter opener from the desk. Harry made to snatch it from him but was stopped with a glare. Maybe he was humming too he wasn’t sure, either way Harry stopped to watch him despite how unhappy he looked as Eggsy took the knife and laid into the wrist not already covered in his blood. Whatever he had managed to do or not do that had held Harry in place was broken as he let out a quiet gasp.

 

The knife was wrenched out of his hand and the sluggishly bleeding wrist draw towards the yet-to-be-used first aid kit. He pulled his hand back sharply from Harry’s angry gaze.

 

“Eggsy what do you think you’re doing-” As lethargic as he was he learned in to whisper in Harry’s ear. Soaking in the tiny shiver the older man gave when his lips brushed over the delicate shell of his ear.

 

“Just watch okay, Eggsy didn’t even have to give Harry a push so that he would follow orders. He brought his wrist into their line of sight. He let his head rest on it; blood smeared but when he lifted his face to smile at Harry he knew there wouldn’t even be a scar under the blood.

 

He got to see Harry’s look of wonder, Eggsy wants more than anything to kiss it. He was so happy with the entire thought he's pretty sure he's been narating.Harry only confirms this when he settles their foreheads together. Unfortunately for Eggsy the rest of him takes this as a signal to shut down. Pitching foreword lightly in his seat and promptly passed out.


	3. The first task (Lol)

                 His mum was holding his hand when he woke up, didn't even have to open his eye to check. He couldn’t help the tiny flair of disappointment that rose in his chest and throat. Maybe he had hoped for the feeling of a pit wider hand. Warm and dry with perfect nail and fingers he’d seen throw fist like he’d been born to do it. All the same it was a rush of happy/sad/relief that rushed through his chest when the events of last night rushed through him.

 

                 He opens his eyes and smiles wide at his mum, his back is sore all over. Sore all over? Maybe that wasn’t so much of a hallucination as he had thought it would have been. He rolled his shoulders and leaned into the softness of his moms shoulder as she threw herself over him in a hug. He returned it with a grateful groan, when he tried to speak it was rough and he tasted blood. Maybe he’d try that a bit later.

 

                Michelle just set about tidying him up telling him about how Mr. Hart, good god he was in a stranger’s house. A good stranger but still a stranger he had no idea why he hadn’t grabbed his fam and ran. His mum just went on about how kind he’d been, quietly retelling how he’d sent for the rest of their things. Told him quietly as she helped him set up that they would be staying there until they could find new digs.

 

                Then she got real quiet and he hand started rubbing heavy slow circles on his back, the way she used to when they both were stressed and hurt and worried when their next meal was coming. It had happened almost every night for a month after she had been laid off from being a nurse down at the A&E, had to become a waitress just to make sure Eggsy could stay in school. She still had no idea what Dean had been making him do on the side.

 

“Eggsy, I got something to tell you baby” She was quiet but firm. There weren’t no tears in her eyes but she looked tired.

 

“When your dad died I was a mess I blamed his world for it all, I blamed the war he wanted no part in for killing him. And for the longest time I blame your friend downstairs there for not telling me what happened. Your dad used to tell me that they call folk like me muggles. People without magic who aren’t allowed to know about them. But I knew, I knew because your dad told me. I knew because before you were a month old you’d busted a window pane just from hollering” He couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak. His head didn’t want to make sense of the words his mum was saying.

 

               Michelle saw how hard her son stared into space, figured it was like ripping off a band aid. Maybe she hadn’t chosen right after all, keeping him away from those people. Especially not when Hart had sat her down this morning and explained the details of her husband’s death, not so now classified as it was before she was allowed to know the bare bones of the story. She’d messed up, but she could fix this yeah?

 

“Your Dad told me before we got married that he was something else, you know what I did I laughed” The laugh she lets loose now is a tiny bit hysterical.

 

“But he talked me through it, told me what he was, part something called a Veela. Now sweetheart I didn’t know until yesterday that you were like him like that, I never would have kept this from you if i'd have known. Till I saw your wings, I had no idea. They look just like his you know. All black and red in the light, god I’m glad you take after me so much caue I don’t think I could bare it if you were much more like your dad. You’re such a good boy Eggsy, you’re my good boy magic powers or no. I shouldn’t have kept this from you but Lee was so afraid of this war he couldn’t tell me about. Just wanted to keep you safe baby” she brings the hand that isn’t rubbing her sons back over her mouth as she draws in a trembling breath.

 

 

“Done a shit job of that though” She leaves him to his thoughts with a kiss on the forehead, maybe she’ll make breakfast for all of them as a thank you. It’s been a while since she’s cooked anything, might be nice without someone breathing over her shoulder.

 

 

“Oh, Darling I know it’s a lot but Mr. Hart wants to talk to you if you’re up to it. Something about meeting him at the tailors shop you two talked about last night if you’re feeling better”.

 

                It takes Eggsy 20 minutes to stetch and move enough to maneuver himself into the shower, yelling when he spots a stuffed dog over the toilet. He’d have to ask Harry bout that sometime, it probably would be an interesting story at least. There was a set of clothing waiting by the sink that didn’t really look like his, but fit him well enough anyway. A starched white shirt, with a collar that wasn’t quite high enough to hide the ugly red mark that would probably mar his neck for another few weeks. He was funny about scars.

 

 

                Sometimes cutes and things disappeared without a trace while others, with no rhyme or reason as to why them remained ugly and prominent for week and months. A pair of grey clack and a slick looking sports coat completed the look.

 

                He actually got a cab on the first try stepping out of Harry’s front door and wasn’t that a thrill. The Kingsman Tailor shop looked just as posh and just as normal as he thought it would be. Harry was waiting for him in the reception area, the other man’s only response to his entrance was to put his glass down and motion for Eggsy to follow him.

 

                Maybe he might have had a second to long to fantisize what would happen in a private fitting room alone too long that he didn’t quite hear Harry when he actually addressed Eggsy. That was until he repeated himself at a curious look from him.

 

“I was saying, about my being a tailor here” He snorts and it hurts. He sees something flash across Harry’s face that isn’t quite readable.

 

 

“I don’t know much, but I know you ain’t a tailor” he manages to croak. Harry flashes sympathetic eyes to the mark at his throat. Probably a lot more visable than it was when he had been covered in blood last night. He lets Harry go through his speech uniterupted, that is until he can’t help but make a crack about my fair lady just to see if Harry was paying attention. Maybe he would actually figure out just how much he was flirting if he just listened.  The smile he gets is worth the pain in his throat ten times over.

 

Then they’re going down and over, and Eggsy can’t believe it. Fucking secret agents man, their greeted by a man who rounds the corner looking properly terrifying for all that he was wearing half rim glasses and a sweater with elbow patches.

 

 

“You’re late Galahad, I postponed to exercises so you could get here with yours” The think man with the think Scottish accent cut himself off and stared at Eggsy. He almost fidgets before he feels it. Something he’s been ignoring for years. Something his mum had matter o’ fact-ly informed him was magic this morning.

 

It was nice, he wanted to stand closer to the tall angry scot, he exuded the energy he specifically lacked. Standing as close as he did now made his throat tingle and he already felt a little less lethargic. But the other man was standing, starring like he’d seen a ghost. Maybe he’d known his dad too, he’d been wrapped up in all this to. Man that had to suck.

 

He stuck out a hand , feeling a little naked without his usual get up. Thin lips pursed as if he had just bit into a something painful. God, he was like him yeah? Shouldn’t he be happy to see him too?

 

His hand was taken in a surprisingly soft grip, maybe he imagined the way the other man’s hand tembled around his own..

 

 

“You’ll be calling me Merlin then, and You-?” Merlin leveled Harry with a questioning glance. He seemed to find whatever he was looking for and released Eggsy’s hand right away.

 

 

“Right then, follow me. We’ve been waiting for you”

 

 

                     The other recruits seemed to pipe up when he enters and he thinks that he needs to remind himself to thank Harry for the clothes cause their all snobs. The Boys try to get him to talk, all Oxbridge accents but he just tugs down his collar points to his throat and shrugs. The girls are nicer. He notices Amelia immediately after they stop crowding him, she has a tiny spark. Nothing like the warm roll of Merlin’s power but sharp and dangerous and wonderful to behold.

 

                    She’s funny and kind and is making jokes and eyeing him in a way like maybe she’s figured out e’s got something in him too. He wonders for a second as a tiny blonde girl who moves like she knows  a hundred ways to kill him, just what he looks like to Amelia. Is he a bonfire of is he a spark?

 

                    The other blonde introduced herself as Roxanne Morton “Call me Roxy” and he spent ten minutes making bad jokes and watching the two of them flirt outrageously. It was actually kind of funny in a completely terrifying way. Merlin Breaks in to give them a “You’re gonna die speech” before they start talking about their knife collections.

 

                    Scare tactics his ass, he wakes to water rising around his chest and a terror that reminds him nun to gently just how much he doesn’t like water. He can swim though and swim he does. In a second he realizes when he’s holding onto the beams and everyone shouting. It’s two things, there’s something powerful wrapped around the door, the part of him that wasn’t panicking for the introduction of the water knew that the door would be a last resort.

 

                   Maybe it was good thing his mum had let him know that these crazy feelings he got weren’t just an upset stomach or something. But real, something that was a part of him, something that used to be a part of his dad. The others were shouting about the showers when he noticed Amelia’s spark wasn’t with the rest of them. He took a deep breath and ducked under the water, following that tiny fiery thing that had first drawn him towards her.

 

                  She was trashing hard, foot caught on her bed. It was lips to lips as he focused on blowing his air into her. Just like that he didn’t need it so much. He hooked a hand around her waist as she feebly trying to swim with him. He looked to the others, all staring wide eyed at the two of them with shower tubes shoved down the u bends of the toilets. They were fine for now, behind them a flash.

 

The mirror, he’d bet anything it was a two way. The burn came rushing back as he handed Amelia off to Roxy, he’d probably be betting his life.

 

                Getting a good grip on the ledge he brought his fists down hard and fast, desperate to make a crack. The was a final thwack before the vacuum of water and air pulled him from the bunk room the other falling on top of him. He coughed he hacked, his throat felt like it was on fire. That probably meant that he might have sucked in a little while the mirror shattered.

 

He crawled over to Amelia; she seemed to be in the same state. Poor bird probably had taken a few mouthfuls before Eggsy had gotten to her. It was only rotten luck that her foot had caught the bed spread. Numb fingers prodded her face as Roxy managed to get her propped. He was tired but not as tired as he had been when Harry had dragged him home, he was even a little rested from the nap he caught before the water works turned themselves on.

 

His vision went a little gold and Amelia managed to cough the last bit of water out. Poor Roxy is holding the both of them up while the posh blokes huddle together for another second before Merlin voice seems to boom into the room unnaturally loud.

 

“Well done all of you, Eggsy good work noticing the two way mirror.” Charlie makes a comment but Eggsy is too tired to respond, his scar is throbbing but Roxy kicks Charlie for him. Merlin makes a show of readjusting his clip board.

 

“As for the rest of you, most of you managed to get a pipe ‘round the u-bend of a toilet then you’ve got a pretty steady air supply. Though as far as I’m concerned nearly every one of you failed, with the exception of Eggsy and Roxy over there you all forgot the most important thing, that's teamwork and being able to communicate in dangerous situations. Sometimes team work and other agents is the only thing that will bring someone back from a very bad situation.” Merlin leveled a dangerous look to the prick who had introduced himself as Digby.

 

“As for you Digby, you’ll be going home. Deliberately sabotaging others will not be tolerated. I don’t believe anyone has been sent home on the first challenge for 20 years congratulations.” Merlin leaves them wet and confused with only a wave as a few people who introduce themselves as tech branch interns pile in with dry clothing and towels.  Two security blokes drag a miserable Digby out and a few people in lab coats talk quietly to Amelia before they walk her out.

 

They’re moved to another bunk room that’s thankfully dry and a lot warmer than the other had been he’s eternally grateful for that. Roxy makes a point of disregarding the silent men/women’s side thing they had decided earlier and grabs the bed closest to his.

 

They pull the beds closer and talk late into the night. Roxy tells him quietly how her mother and father drowned after their boat had capsized in the middle of the ocean. How she was raised by her uncle George and later his partner James. James who had been the previous Lancelot and her uncle being the current Percival had proposed her for the spot.

 

In return he traded his own watered down version of events. Roxy laughs when he tells her about why he was caught by the police.

 

“By the sound of it you’re a brilliant driver, how on earth did they catch up” She’s trying to take the piss out of him but sounds honestly curious at the same time. He definitely does not blush when he tells her about the cat, she laughs so hard she doesn’t even manage to keep quiet.

 

When he’s finished he’s fairly certain the two of them should have been sleeping hours ago and if he’s to go by the fact Roxy actually winked the last time he mentioned Harry that she noticed his little crush. Even if she had been distracted by pawing at his collar to get at the knife mark concern and confusion equal on her face.

 

For fucks sake, he’d known the girl for less than a day and she’s shown more concern over him than anyone beside his mum’s done in years. He’d return the favor somehow. As it was the others were waking up and he could taste the blood on the back of his tongue again. He silently urged Roxy to sleep with a low hum. Both of them dropping into it moments before the others began to stir. They had another hour they would use it.

 


	4. ready, set. swim?

Harry stood over Merlin shoulder watching the screen from the camera that fed directly into the trainee’s dorm, the footage of the tank test to be specific. Something queer in his chest grew with the pride he felt as he watched his boy complete the tasks set out for him. Eggsy had done splendidly, absolutely splendidly. He was excited to see what was to come; hopefully Eggsy would prove to be just as extraordinary as he himself could almost already see the young man being. Though maybe not for the conversation he was about to have.

 

Merlin’s fists were clenched tight around the arms of his chair as they both watched the footage again. Watched as Eggsy passed both tests, the magic one Merlin had set for him and those for the rest of the recruits.

 

 

=====================================================================================

 

The Scotsman had filled him in on the whole magic thing around the time Archibald McLaggen, a shy recruit with the sharpest mind he’d ever encountered, had been officially named Merlin. And as a direct result he couldn’t seem to help himself but to shove the younger man against the nearest wall, and give what Merlin still refused to call congratulatory blow job in the Kingsman library. With glasses flung to the side and Archie-now-Merlin held his hair and fucked into his mouth with breathy groans as Harry’s hands worked themselves into open trousers that stubbornly clung to slim hips as he gathered two handfuls of the pert arse while Merlin’s cock opened his throat.

 

He’d never get over the way Merlin had shepherded him back to his room, pressed him down into the sheets and fucked him slow and sweet though the night. Completely the opposite of what he’d come to expect but definitely not unwelcome.

 

It was after that when Merlin apologized, they had both been sweaty and tired while he whispered ridiculous things about magic. He’d nearly been out the door before Merlin had finished, unbelievably hurt and confused. Shoes abandoned in a mess before a large hand caught his shirt and had hauled him back into the lap he’d just vacated. Explaining without a trace of wickedness or a joke that there was a war going on in Britain, one of magic folk. One that he had a hand in helping and abetting the rebels against this Voldemort character. Merlin had looked desperate for him to believe, and to tell the truth he hadn’t truly until the other man summoned one of his guns to him from across the room.

 

He’d never known Archie, the young man he fell in love with to lie to him. So he highly doubted Merlin would be any different. He made a point of telling his lover just that. Causing an unproductive morning which was full of kisses and promises to keep him safe from hidden dangers. Afterwards he began to notice tiny things that he would not have noticed before, sometimes with Merlin’s help though mostly by himself.

 

Like how he didn’t even have to ask anymore when Merlin brought someone home if they were magical or non-magical. If they were one of the rebels they were providing a roof and in these cases warm bed to for the night. He teased Merlin that it was in the pitch of their moans. Subsequently the more often he was exposed to such beings the easier it was to tell, at one point Merlin informed him that he’d gotten sloshed and brought home a vampire and only to immediately demand Merlin put a cap on the fellows teeth before either of them should kiss him. That was a fun night, despite how little he remembered.

 

So when he’s in the middle of the desert and ready to die listening to Merlin scream in his ear while he’s bleeding out. He could just tell as a young man strolled into view and absolutely slaughters the men that were coming for him. The men he’d drawn there in a last ditch attempt to escape them with the hard-drive in his pack intact, who seem to have no trouble killing the others-he was a marine- he notes from the uniforms.

 

The man in front of him sets off all his warning bells; he’s a hair to fast. He reloads his rifle as if a calm had washed over him but his hands are still moving at a murderous pace and his face is cold and full of rage. Merlin would love this one, he wondered if he was creature or Wizard. Though that’s really the last thing he can think have before he’s introducing himself.

 

There are those hellish days he swears he’s going to die and all Merlin is going to find is his body. But the soldier returns, he checks on what is apparently his work on the bullet wounds. They probably wouldn’t kill him and at this point that was convenient.

 

He still remembers it as clearly as if it were yesterday the next time he awoke completely lucid. The soldier was chatting on with Merlin and having a ridiculously surreal conversation while his hand ran through blood and dirt crusting in his hair. Then he noticed the leather seats, or rather the absolutely huge scaly black seats that rose up from his new friends back. Wings?

 

Later Merlin would explain to him just what Lee was. And that he was protecting a family from the war Merlin was fighting in.

The week before Lee died; Merlin told Harry the bastard had apparently made him something called a secret keeper. And from the baffled look on his lovers face it wasn’t exactly the normal thing to do to allow a “muggle” to do such a thing. As it was, it allowed him to find the Unwin’s home and keep a promise he made to himself of making sure the family knew he owed them. But the call hadn’t come.

 

Not until a week ago and now Harry and Merlin both were looking in on Lee Unwin’s son who turned out to be even more successful than Lee in the trials. Lee’s class of recruits had failed to save the actress they’d implanted.

 

Lee Unwin the strangest man he’s ever met. Bubbly and giddy with carefully clipped and censored stories of his wife and son, god the man would have made such a good spy but he never looked too close to home. Never noticed any of the hints he had thrown the daft bugger, and it wasn’t like he could out Merlin for having broken their cardinal rule. A man who showed off pictures like trophies and could use a rifle like no one Harry had ever seen. Once he’d heard Merlin cursing Lee as a hufflepuff for being a little too warm and too excited about being their friends.

 

Eggsy, who looked nothing like Lee and was curled up on his new bunk; pulled close to another recruit any from the others who had immediately dropped into deep sleep, Just those two huddled together and told each other stories.

 

He knew Miss. Roxanne’s, it may be that he could only able count the number of times either the former Lancelot and Percival had to take missions simultaneously after Percival took custody of the her on one hand. Though James knew his weakness for children, possibly about Merlin’s. Merlin was always more reserved around the knights though most knew he was fearlessly protective of all of them, so they’d been their first picks among their other colleges to babysit.

 

He’d always delighted in the tea parties and had been both extremely proud and emotional when he saw who it was Percival proposed. He doubted she remembered him, they were short stays and Merlin would be the one she would remember best.

 

So he still flinched slightly when he heard the story from the young woman now, sympathy for her situation as bright as ever. He had lost his little sister in a similar situation, it was still painful to think of the rainy day he’d gotten a call from his father. The first one in since he’d left to use his training at oxford for the benefit of the army, he was grateful he’d had as much time with her as he did. Unlike Roxanne; apparently going by Roxy now.

 

He rather liked the shortening of it.

He watched the true of them as Eggsy aired his own story to the room, he hadn’t realized how tense he’d become before there was a hand on the back of his neck, warm and firm. There and gone in a moment but a reminder that had him relaxing as Eggsy explained away his still forming black eye with a shrug and a comment about his step farther.  
Merlin handed him a cuppa and for a moment he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed his regular mint blend had been compromised with a faint purplish tint that meant Merlin had been messing about with his potions again. He took a sip, grimaced for no particular reason still not sure what to make of the fact it tasted no different. With a slight bit of resentful spirit he through the rest back, taking his seat next to his lover.

 

Merlin never tried anything resembling beating about the bush when it came to him, even as his limbs felt pleasantly heavy and his head rolled towards the other man’s shoulder. So it wasn’t a surprise that as they settled in to wait out the recruits, only feeling slightly guilty in the anticipation of the bets they both make after the first trial that Merlin asked the question that seemed to be gnawing at him from the moment he introduced him to Eggsy.

 

“Why now?” The simple question left unanswered, it probably hadn’t been the best decision to bring Eggsy here but he was more than capable and He had to do something. Especially now that it seemed Michelle and little Daisy were settled in at home- oh well maybe he should tell merlin that before he makes the mistake of stopping by only to meet Lee’s wife and her child. He told Merlin as much and he nearly choked on his drink, always amusing to watch the top bit of Merlin’s head turn the most delicate shade of pink.  
He wondered if Merlin would have a problem sharing space, granted he had the house next door all to himself. Half the block was kingsman owned and it came quite in handy whenever there was an emergency. But Merlin only grinned when he asked before drawing both their attention back to the recruits. Eggsy and Roxy had drifted off and tomorrow they would be starting their language lessons, a selfish part of him wanted to nudge Eggsy in the direction of Italian. It’d been years since he’d had anyone to converse with, and no one nearly as interesting as Eggsy.

 

 

They fall into one of the spare rooms at HQ, Merlin hoping to grab a short nap before havingto wake and supervise the little ones. He’s tired enough that he doesn’t even roll his eyes when Harry spends a moment to long watching the boy before following behind him. Harry’s always had a type, rough accent with and even rougher attitude. Probably why Harry ended up with him, but Eggsy was a sweet little thing; a sweet boy with and even sweeter heart if you would listen to Harry explain and essentially gush over Eggsy. He was looking forward to how this played out even if the boy’s magic felt like a livewire. IT was something that made him want to reach out and touch, like the boy he used to be standing by his Mam outside the electric fence curious to the feeling but knowing it was dangerous. Although this time ‘round he didn’t have his Mam’s glare to scare him away before he reached out to feel the jolt of the fence. He’d have to be careful with Eggsy, as tempting as the boy’s power was his first priority was to make sure the lad and the other recruits had all they needed to prove themselves.

 

 

Anyway he’d be sure to corner him tomorrow to see where he ended up at school, even if was just to berate his teachers for allowing his magic to run as wild as it had. It must be agony for the boy to have such a thing lashing around in him. Until then he let his own fingers card through Harry’s hair as the older man draped himself over his chest. God this was lovely, if he’d been a cat these were the moments he could almost feel himself purring with satisfaction.

 

This week had been so successful, Harry was happy with Eggsy and he was just happy that despite having to set up recruitment tests Merlin branch seemed to be holding much better than they did when the Tristan trials ran. There had been mayhem and tears and someone broke the coffee maker at some point, hence the tears. He blamed Lancelot for a month only to find out it had been Percival, the pyromaniac bastard.

 

But now as far as he could see his branch was holding itself together, he’d only received two angry phone calls from Nimue about the underlings blowing shit up. But that was pretty standard practice since he’d thought it would be a decent idea to let the younger agents off handler duty from time to time to spend their hours down in development. So he could sleep now knowing things were taken care of, so he just traced nonsense words into Harry’s scalp until he himself fell asleep. Tomorrow Harry would be heading out to follow any leads on Professor Arnold, hopefully find out what the fuck was going on.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this will be, but this all started with an out of control tumblr post. It's no betaed and the promt came from aniseandspearmint on tumblr. If you have any corrections or suggestions to make as for Veela anotomy/ability, Eggsy is at least 1/4 Veela Lee might be a little more than Half I havn't decided. Comments and Kudos are invaluable!!! (Also I am so sorry i keep changing it I'll stop soonish, I promise!) Also i am really sorry about any mistake, I'm dyslexic so it makes it hard to catch mistakes thank you for hopefully understanding!)


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